These Wounds Can Be Healed
by TutorGirlml
Summary: An alternate version of Emma and Killian's quest to prove their True Love and the well-earned relief when they finally make it home... (Started before 5x20, now canon divergent from there)
_Well, I really wanted to get this one posted before Sunday's episode (5x20) aired, then I didn't even get to see the episode due to ridiculous weather coverage, and I didn't make my own deadline anyway. I know Killian and Emma's quest didn't play out anything like this (I've learned that much from what I've seen on the internet) but I just had to explore it when the idea hit me. Some of this came to mind with the picture last week of Emma holding Killian's hook and all of the talk about that. Okay, all that said, I hope you enjoy, and don't hesitate to let me know what you think!_

 _I don't own them, not even a little!_

" _These Wounds Can Be Healed"_

 _By: TutorGirlml_

 _'How had it come to this?'_

Killian had known the tingling sensation at his nape, warning that this slippery excuse for a deity couldn't be trusted, was the same instinct which had kept him alive as an indentured servant, a Royal Navy sailor, a pirate, and a pawn of the varied magical beings who had tried to use him for their own aims over the years. However, he had let the others drown him out – let down his guard – and now his Swan was the one paying the price.

They had reached the very bottom of the seemingly endless elevator shaft, in the open, cavernous space it let out, so deep it seemed that they had been swallowed into the Earth's core. This was where the test set before them, the True Love scales, had waited. Though his breath had been tight in his chest, remembering the heartbreak and failure of his attempt to kiss Emma back to herself in New York City, and his later effort when she was still the Dark One, sure enough, this time there had been a burst of light and color rippling out and thrilling through his very soul. He could see on Emma's face that she had felt it too, warmed by the unmatchable joy of it. He heart had begun to beat again as the ground trembled, and that ought to have been all there was to it. They should have been on there way home to Storybrooke.

However, once they had started back to the lift in the wide, low-ceilinged stone space, eerie silence and near pitch darkness had greeted them menacingly. In the next instant, an inexorable force grasped them, flinging them to the barren walls, backs pressed against the solid surface, chains sprouting magically from nowhere to hold them in place. Though he had not been in this particular dungeon before, Killian felt his entire being flush hot, then turn cold with reminiscent alarm. When Hades had walked up to them in the street asking for their help rescuing Zelena, he had wanted to tell his recent tormentor to crawl back to his throne and die there, but Killian hadn't argued with the group's decision to try. He still felt enough guilt at all of them being trapped in this limbo with their names on headstones because of him that he did not wish to thwart a chance at having those carvings which held them removed.

He wanted to at least step in front of Emma, to shield her from the persecutor he had no doubt would soon be appearing, but his bindings held fast and he couldn't budge an inch. Though his love had made all outward traces of the torture, the injuries he had already sustained from Hades, disappear, his skin still shivered and his stomach rebelled at the remembered pain. Hades had not appeared yet, nor any of the henchmen he had allowed to take their turns in administering Killian's torture, but Killian knew they would; the god of the Underworld did not seem to like getting his hands dirty, but he would no doubt continue to enjoy overseeing the handiwork and gloating.

Emma flexed her hands, twisting her wrists within their bonds but getting nowhere, her own powers somehow muted or blocked by what held them. His lass, realistic, strong, and never one to struggle in a fruitless endeavor, instead turned her lovely green eyes on him, searching his face ruefully and reading him every bit as easily as she always accused him of doing to her. "You knew he would turn on us, didn't you?" she asked quietly, catching her bottom lip with her teeth as she forced down frustrated emotion and what he knew to be fear she would not allow to show.

"I couldn't be sure, Love," he murmured, lowering his eyes in dejection, "but yes, I had my suspicions."

"So, not such a good time in store for us here, huh?" she offered with a helping of her shrugging bravado, the type that only she, his beautiful, valiant, blonde Savior could pull off while chained to a slab of stone in the Underworld.

"He'll not touch you, Emma," Killian growled out roughly, his jaw clenched tightly and visibly working in a way that made her mouth go suddenly dry and rendered her quite breathlessly aware of his coiled strength, simmering anger, and his ardent protectiveness, despite their current dilemma. He had no way to follow through on his statement, but she was touched all the same. She has gone from having no one in her life who wouldn't toss her away if it saved their own skin, to having this beautiful, devoted man by her side who would – and had, over and over again – die for her, never ceased to touch and then overwhelm her. Blinking rapidly to hide the tears that tried to fall, her fingers itched to brush along the side of his face. "I'm sorry," she offered simply.

"Sorry?" he sputtered disbelievingly. "What do you have to apologize for, Lass?" Those blue eyes she loved were wide and a bit wild as they stared into hers questioning, searching, "All of you are here for me, and I could not bear it if you or your family were hurt in trying to rescue me. Emma, I _do_ want to come home with you, but maybe you should have left me down here. I'm the one who should be sorry."

Emma's eyes turned unbearably tender at his words, and she shook her head gently, denying the very idea. Her mouth opened to speak, to reassure him, when another voice, sinister and oozing false charm, broke in.

"Finally, mine at last…my escaped prisoner and his Savior," Hades chuckled, clearly quite proud of himself at the desired outcome of his charade. He stepped all too close for Killian's comfort; the pirate managed not to flinch or make a sound, merely to scowl at this immortal monster, but tremors ran through his frame, recalling the slices that drew his blood, the blows which had bruised and broken his body, the burning and the torment. More than anything, his skin crawled at the mere suggestion of Emma feeling any of that, and he nearly convulsed with rage and disgust when the evil god drew nearer still to speak right in Emma's face and toy with a piece of her golden hair.

"Did you really think I would join up with you foolish, self-styled heroes so easily?" He shook his head as if disappointed in their simplicity. "I simply needed the burst of True Love power that the two of you created when you passed my test in order to jump start this dead heart of mine. Now I can get on with _my_ plans, and you two troublemakers are out of my way." He passed Emma, moving toward Killian, and as he came to stand before the pirate, face close to his, a dark chuckle issued from his lips as he observed Killian's tense readiness. "You may look tough, but I _know_ you remember what I'm capable of, pirate."

Emma yelled out in anger, spitting mad and scraping her wrists raw as she pulled against her chains, her efforts to get to Hades more frantic now than when he had been focused on her. "Leave him alone! You've already hurt him enough! I'll – "

"Be still!" Hades ordered harshly, silencing Emma's protest with the mere wave of his hand, her voice evaporating instantly as his magic struck her mute.

"Now, where was I?" Hades asked, almost beside himself with sadistic glee as he returned to mocking Killian. If the pirate ground his teeth any harder at the sight of Emma's wide eyes and shaking head, her worry for him, he would wear them down to the gums. "Oh yes, of course! No, I'm not going to try the same tactics on you this time, _Hook_. Clearly, you can withstand an inordinate amount of physical pain, and it didn't get me anywhere. I've figured out how to really punish you, 'Captain'," Hades purred silkily. He reached out to detach Killian's hook from its brace with a _click_ and took it in hand, "how to finally sap your hope. Brace yourself," the villain warned with mock sympathetic eyes, holding his prisoner's burning blue gaze. "By your own admission, this may be more than you can bear."

Toying and hesitation over now, the vengeful deity moved quickly back to Emma and struck like lightning, slashing the hook's point across her tender cheek, immediately drawing blood and a soundless cry of pain, then reeling back and plunging the weapon into the meat of her shoulder.

Emma struggled bravely, but couldn't get anywhere, bound to the wall as they both were. Though his lass was resilient, Killian knew just how much his moniker hurt when used to wound, and the tears pouring silently down her cheek scalded him as mercilessly as if he were being burned all over again, tormented infinitely more by her pain than anything Hades could have physically done to him. He could only pray that the noiseless words on her lips were curses for Hades and not broken pleas. He needed her to keep fighting.

Meanwhile, he was doing just fine filling the silence on his own, anything to block out the sound of impact against her precious body and the squelching of the metal tip sinking into flesh and sinew. "Leave her alone, you bloody demon!" he roared, throwing himself against his chains over and over, desperate to reach Hades and tear him limb from limb. "If you want to hurt me, do so! Enough of this! Face me, do what you will, but leave her out of it!"

Paying as little mind to Killian's outburst as if he had said nothing at all, Hades continued his work with the hook, tearing through the denim of Emma's jeans and carving down the pale expanse of her bared thigh. Unable to watch the red trail of blood welling to the surface in the wake of the cut, Killian turned his eyes back to meet hers, and he swore that what he saw there would haunt him for the rest of his life. Emma had clamped her lips tightly closed, holding back any further emotion that would only please her tormentor and punish the man she loved. But the agony in her gaze, the begging for him to calm down, not to injure himself, to believe that she would be alright, was nearly his undoing. It had been one thing when not so long ago the Lord of the Underworld had used his own attachment on him, but to see it wielded to wound and torment the woman he loved was truly unbearable. Sickness and shame filled him at her life's blood gleaming wetly on its silver curve.

Though she couldn't make a sound, the determined, still-loving face Emma turned to him, that green, open gaze sparkling with unshed tears of pain and fear was nearly Killian's undoing. How could she still look to him as if there were hope he could save her? His own hook had been used to do her harm, and he was as helpless to aid her as he had been since this nightmare began. In fact, she would not even be in the horrifying mess she was if she had just let him go, forgotten the dastardly pirate captain and moved on with her life in the world above.

Hades chuckled with self-satisfaction, seeing Emma unable to keep herself from cringing away as he traced a hand down her face and neck, smearing her own blood over her skin as a bright red victory flag. The depraved god's eyes were trained on Killian though. "Was that all it took to finally see your ridiculous penchant for hope fade? You know, pirate, for someone who has lived as long as you have, seen as much, suffered as much, and done as much evil along with the good as you, it is amazing to me that your faith in honor, justice and _love_ ," Hades almost spat the terms, the loathing in his voice was so strong, "has lasted this long. And yet, in the end, all it took was one fragile, weak, little mortal capturing your heart. The loss of her will finally snuff out one of the most impossibly strong capacities for foolish _hope_ that I have ever seen."

Killian wanted to argue, to deny Hades' threat that this could be Emma's end. But he couldn't think of anything to do, and for once any defiant words of response were blanked from his mind by his fear for her, especially as Hades looked poised to plunge the hook into her flesh again, this time hovering over her heart, where she could not recover from the blow. But before he could despair, he saw Emma shake her head behind Hades' back, desperate not to see him give in, trying to bolster him though her words had been stolen. It did something to him, swelled in his chest where his heart no longer even beat, to see this woman – once so self-sufficient, closed off, and afraid to hope – now the last one relying on the elusive ideal, drawing on its strength and refusing to let go. It fanned the fading embers of his own belief back to flaming life.

It was in that moment, as matters truly appeared at their bleakest and he cast about for any recourse, that Killian realized there was a bit more room to maneuver in the manacle over his left wrist than there had been before. He refocused his gaze on Emma; though her pain hurt him to witness, he did not want to draw any focus to what he had now realized was possible and he was already silently attempting to do. When those who weren't familiar with the contraption that held his hook tampered with the device of his own creation, they might get the weapon detached, but they loosened the whole apparatus. He could feel the base giving way from the straps, and he worked that much more anxiously, pulling and twisting. Then, finally – just as he had when bound to a tree in Camelot and he had broken free of his bindings to stop Arthur from harming his Swan – he slid his handless arm from the shackles and flung himself at the immortal who had turned his attention back to Emma, ready to make the final strike.

Killian's rapid movement and the sound of his brace hitting cold stone alerted Hades to the attack a mere second before the pirate made contact with his smaller form, bowling him over and already hauling back to punch their sleek-suited tormentor as the two of them fell together, but at the same time, the crash of the elevator slamming to a stop and its door being burst off its hinges and a blinding flash of light froze them all for a moment. In the next, Regina, Zelena, and Snow emerged, looking like three fierce Amazonian warriors ready for battle.

The formerly Evil Queen's dark, assessing eyes only needed a moment to judge the basics of what was happening, before she swept a hand masterfully toward Hades and pre-empted his recovering from shock and countering her action. He was pulled from under Killian's tackle and brought to his feet, then magically held motionless by Regina's spell. "Go ahead, Dear," Regina said to her sister at her side, tone deceptively calm and pleasant, before she scowled menacingly at Hades as Zelena stepped forward to face him.

"You lied to me," Zelena hissed, anger crackling in her odd, pale eyes, and though Killian had often been struck by the crazily unhinged quality in their depths, he saw now that she was focused and controlled, exactly sure of where that malice must be directed. "I doubted you for so long, and the moment I took a chance, the moment I decided to see if someone might truly love me, you proved that I had been right to mistrust you all along. You will _never_ get that kiss to start your dead heart from me, Hades. Now, begone!"

Turning decisively, she linked hands with Regina, who had come forward to flank her in support. Though they couldn't vanquish an eternal deity, however powerful their magic, they joined forces and sent him somewhere, because as Killian stood watching, one minute Hades was there and the next he was gone.

Snow had already run to her daughter's side and was trying to undo the chains which held her in place. Killian was only a step behind her, almost dizzy with relief that Emma was still alive and wouldn't be hurt any further, yet he was still keeping a wary eye out in case their erstwhile opponent appeared once more.

"Snow, could you back up please?" Regina spoke, her clipped tone almost sounding impatient, but both Snow and Killian knew better by now, the abruptness a giveaway of concern not annoyance. "Those chains are magical, and as such will probably take magic to release."

Sure enough, the Queen closed her eyes, drawing her strength and focus for a moment, and then with a flourish, they disintegrated, leaving Emma free. She stumbled a bit, weak no doubt from the blood already staining her clothes and the floor under her feet, and still flowing from her injuries. Snow quickly wrapped a steadying arm around her daughter's waist, and Emma leaned into her gratefully. Her brow wrinkled curiously in the next moment, looking to Regina in confusion, even as Killian edged closer to her tentatively and she reached out to grasp his hand. Her mouth opened to ask a question, but of course, to the other three women's surprise, no sound came out.

Though he had picked up his hook from where it fell at Hades' disappearance and reattached it, he kept it carefully away from Emma, not even wanting to look at it himself, much less have her see it now stained with her own blood. Still, he read his love's intended query easily enough, as he had been wondering the same thing. "Thank you, your Majesty," he offered with the slightest of bows. "Truly." He held Regina's gaze until she could gauge his sincerity, and then she gave a small nod in return. "But why could Emma's magic not do away with our bonds as yours did?"

Emma nodded vigorously, shooting a grateful look in his direction and letting him know he had been correct in guessing her most pressing question, and determinedly pulling him closer, though he resisted, sure she couldn't want to really be held by him after he had been so useless while she was tortured with his own appendage. When she finally got him near enough, she let out a little huff at his stubbornly holding himself stiff and slightly away from her, but as she couldn't really question him, merely leaned her head against his chest as they all awaited Regina's answer.

The Queen for her part, frowned at the whole tableau they had just broken up, deep in thought. She was also studying both Emma and Killian perceptively, and it made the pirate squirm, wondering just how much her knowing eyes could discern of the horror which had taken place. "Well, if I had to guess," Regina offered thoughtfully, "I would say that they were enchanted to bind any magic held within them. Once Emma was already held and tried to use her magic to break free, it was too late." She tilted her dark head curiously now, catching on to the fact that Killian had asked Emma's question for her. "There's something else wrong though, isn't there, Miss Swan?" she mused. "What is it?"

Emma shook her head in frustration, biting her lip and looking away, but then nodding to Killian that he should go ahead and tell them the rest.

"Hades took her voice, your Highness," Killian explained bitterly, still internally cursing himself that such a thing could have been done to Emma on his watch, that his princess had only been so vulnerable because of her stubborn desire to save _his_ life. "He cursed her mute."

Zelena gave a trill of a laugh, causing Killian to send a sharp, dark glower her way. But she merely gave him a simpering smile, before asking sweetly, "But, don't you see, Captain? That's easily fixed. It _is_ a curse, after all. You need only kiss it away – now that your True Love is confirmed and all that rot." She rolled her eyes at what she saw as his density in the matter, but Killian had already turned to Emma and failed to see.

She was looking at him, hope simply blazing across her features and love radiating from her eyes. For a moment Killian Jones found himself trembling with hope, stunned at the belief that this incredible woman could truly love him, and that his barren, battered heart could find enough love to return the emotion to her as well. Brushing a flyaway strand of hair off her forehead, he wet his lips and drew in a nervous breath, feeling like a lad of fifteen again, about to experience his first kiss with a young serving girl behind the kitchens of a tavern where Captain Silver's crew had gone to refresh themselves for an evening and he had followed them ashore. The magnitude of it though was so much more daunting than anything he had previously experienced. Eventually, seeing his hesitation and smirking in affectionate impatience, Emma gripped the lapels of his leather jacket and pulled him to her; he merely dipped his head and met her lips in the bliss he always found while kissing her.

The rest of the world went away for a moment; no one intruded on their momentary paradise, and both of them sunk into the kiss, appreciating the moment amid all the turmoil for the two of them, saved once again, together, and finally – _finally_ – going home. They only separated when a harsh throat clearing reminded them of the others' presence. Pulling away, Emma flushed and hid her face in Killian's chest at her mother's averted gaze, Regina's impatiently tapping foot, and Zelena's droll amusement.

"Well?" the Queen asked expectantly.

Emma cleared her throat, and answered with only a bit of hoarseness for all of them to hear. "It worked."

"Clearly," Regina deadpanned, gesturing for all of them to move it along toward the elevator. "Were you two so absorbed in each other that you didn't feel that second wave of magic sweep through here in rainbow colors?"

Emma blushed even redder, an impish smile that swept Killian off his feet all over again and a twinkle in her eye the only answer she gave.

They moved to follow everyone else, though she still kept one hand clutching his lapel and Killian dipped his face to kiss her forehead lightly as they started walking. "Aye, your Majesty, I'm afraid so," he admitted, wondering if he even felt a bit of a blush on his own cheeks beneath his dark scruff.

Snow slowed enough to reach back and give her daughter's free hand a gentle squeeze of understanding. "That's as it should be," she whispered, her voice proud and happy for them, and her gentle, motherly smile taking in Killian as well.

Just as they reached the lift and were about to follow the others in, Emma stumbled weakly over some loose rock, and in her weakened state, slumped over and nearly went down. Immediately worried for her anew, Killian caught her by the elbow and kept her from falling completely, pulling her back up and drawing her to his side. She had lost enough blood – was still losing it – that they didn't have time to waste, and her exhaustion was clearly showing.

Without another moment's thought, Killian wrapped one arm behind her shoulders, the other under her knees, and gathered her into his arms. Emma tried to protest weakly, saying she was fine, he didn't need to carry her, but Killian only held her closer to his chest and stepped into the elevator after the rest of them, whispering in a warm breath against her temple, "Nonsense. I've got you. Rest now, Swan."

Snow pulled the gate down, Regina sent them hurtling upwards, and they were on their way back to the land of the living at last.

~~~~~~~88888888888888888~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma's eyes fluttered open to find herself once again in the normal, earthly version of Storybrooke. She was lying curled up beneath the soft covers on the king-sized bed in her house by the water. _Their_ house - the house full of hopes for the future, which she had never yet gotten to use – _Dark Ones don't have to sleep -_ nor had she wanted to when he couldn't be there lying beside her. Blinking, she sat up, already moving her hand over the blanket seeking Killian's and looking for him anxiously. He was there in the next moment, his hand taking hers and twining their fingers together as he sat down beside her on the mattress.

"Morning, Swan," his warm, rumbling whisper sent a thrill through her veins as he bent to press a light, chaste, kiss to her lips, sitting back up before it could progress, leaving her arching after him, following his lips as he grinned mischievously. "Easy there, Love," he murmured, hand rubbing up and down her arm warmly, stretching out next to her and pulling her into his body as he wrapped an arm around her middle, if only to keep her lying down and resting until he was sure she truly was recovered. "How are you feeling?"

She curled against him, resting her head on his chest, warm under a soft, well-worn grey T-shirt that she knew had to be a castoff of her father's and relishing the sound of his heart's regular beat in her ear. "Mmmm…" she practically purred like a contented cat curled on a sunny windowsill. "Much better now."

"Truly, Lass?" he asked quietly, tilting his head to study her face, hoping she was sincere and not putting on a tough front. "You were cut badly, and you lost a fair amount of blood. If you're still feeling weak, let yourself recuperate. And perhaps we should also find that shockingly light haired physician?"

Emma couldn't help chuckling a bit at his apt description of Whale and then reaching up to cradle his cheek in her hands, tracing her thumb over the long-healed scar beneath his eye.

He didn't argue with her, but instead turned his face into her touch, eyes closing to savor the gentle contact, a hum vibrating through his chest that she felt as well. Still, despite his obvious happiness to see her well and be there with her enjoying their home, their bright future together at last, Emma slowly caught onto how he was holding his left arm away from her, purposely keeping it from view. Killian was being casual about it, but the realization hit her with sudden clarity that he was hiding his hook. Quick tears burned in her eyes for him at the blame he must be heaping on himself for no reason, for something completely beyond his control, and her chest tightened to the point she could hardly draw a breath to speak.

Pressing her lips together to hold in the over-swell of emotion, of love and caring, of empathy and awe, for this man - wounded but strong, and rugged but tender - lying next to her, she made sure to do one thing before she even tried to speak. Holding his infinite blue gaze, she fumbled over the covers until she could trace her fingers down the arm he had surreptitiously held back. Clasping his wrist, Emma gently pulled it to herself, feeling the resistance in his muscles at first, then the easing as he let her have her way.

There was no mistaking the hints of fear, disgust, and shame in his eyes as they fell on the sharp attachment she had wrapped her fingers around, nor the rigid way he held himself still, as if expecting a blow or an attack. It made her more determined than ever to find the words that would convince him of what she truly felt. He was the one with the gift for speaking though, and so she drew in a shaky deep breath before she plunged forward, praying she could get it right. "Killian," she breathed, still holding his gaze, refusing to let him look away, pressing his forearm, the hook and brace, to her heart. "I see what you're doing, and you have to stop. _Please._ It's isn't true. This is a part of you. It would _never_ harm me when it's in your possession. What Hades used it for is on _him_ , not you. _You_ would never harm me. I _know_ that. You need to as well."

She paused, and Killian immediately opened his mouth to counter her assurance, but she stopped him with a finger to his lips, shaking her head rapidly to stop his words. "Wait...please," she pleaded, tears spilling over despite her best efforts to hold them back and seeing them brimming in his eyes before her. "I need you to understand," her voice wobbled with the ferocity of her feelings, but Emma pressed on intently, bringing his hook up between them before both of their eyes, stroking her hand slowly, lovingly, over the curve and then bringing the cool steel to her lips, pressing a kiss there and holding his eyes the entire time, wanting him to see that the love, the attraction was no different for her whether it was his hook or his hand she held. In fact, she had a special affection for it that was all its own.

She felt Killian trembling under her careful touch, literally shaking with emotion. His voice was as hesitant and unsteady as she had ever heard it when he started to speak again at last, "Emma, you don't have to… It's alright, Love…"

But she shushed him again soothingly. "Killian, _I love you._ Don't you see? That means _all, every bit_ of you. It's no different than you accepting and embracing my magic. This hook has fought for me, saved me, touched me, and comforted me more times than I can count. It helped make you into the man who broke down my walls and stole into my heart. Like you told me once, Pirate, 'I'm a fan of every part of you'. That sentiment goes both ways."

Finally, he nodded, the gratitude and awe in his eyes nearly overwhelming, and he didn't try to speak, swallowing hard instead, though she could see on his face that he had begun to see her words as the truth. "If you say so, Darling, then I am honored. I will choose to believe you."

She grinned at him, eyes bright and joy welling up within to fill her. "As well you should, Captain," she smirked, quite pleased with herself. "As well you should." She nodded her head smartly, reaching out to tap his nose with her pointer finger, as he was fond of doing to her. "Now, come here and give me another kiss."

Grinning like a true buccaneer about to grasp rare treasure, Killian leaned over her, bending to sweep in and take her mouth passionately with his. "With pleasure, My Love," he murmured huskily, the last word either of them spoke for some time to come.


End file.
